Freedom's Land (4 page)

‘I must be mad,’ he muttered.

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means I’ll go and meet this woman. More than that I can’t promise till I see what she’s like.’

‘That’s all I ask, love.’ She put up one hand to pat his cheek. ‘I think this is going to work out well.’

He didn’t. He couldn’t imagine why he was even doing this. How could he possibly marry another woman so soon after Betty?

‘Tell me more about him, Mrs Reddish,’ Norah pleaded.

‘He’s called Andrew Boyd. His older son Jack is ten and Ned’s seven. He’s a widower. It’s better if he tells you the rest himself.’ She reached across to grasp the younger woman’s hand. ‘Don’t screw up that pamphlet. He’ll want it back.’

Norah looked down in surprise at her clenched fist, then smoothed the paper out slowly and carefully. ‘I shan’t know what to say to him.’

‘He’ll be feeling the same, I dare say. Just tell him what’s in your heart. It won’t be easy, but if you’re brave, I’m sure you’ll manage.’

The door knocker sounded and before Norah could tell her kind hostess she wasn’t feeling brave and had definitely changed her mind, Mrs Reddish had whisked out of the room.

There was no escaping now.

It seemed a long time before the door opened again and Mrs Reddish brought a man in. ‘This is Andrew Boyd. Andrew, this is Norah Webster.’ She left without another word.

To Norah’s surprise it was the man she’d met the previous Sunday. From the look in his eyes, he recognised her too.

‘Won’t you sit down?’ But her voice betrayed her, wobbling.

‘Thank you.’

She studied him carefully. She remembered him clearly from their walk but now she studied him more carefully. He was a fine figure of a man, tall and moved as if he was strong. His hair was a very dark brown and his eyes were a deep blue, fringed in long, dark lashes any woman would have killed for. And he had a gentle smile. It was the smile more than his good looks which attracted and comforted her. ‘Please tell me about yourself, Mr Boyd, and – and about your plans for Australia.’

Andrew had been studying her just as carefully, liking her neat appearance and the light brown hair, with wisps softening her high forehead and curls nestling into the nape of her neck. She wasn’t pretty, but pleasant enough looking, bonny, folk would call her. She looked healthy, with rosy cheeks and clear blue eyes. He remembered the kind way she’d helped the little lass the previous Sunday. He wanted someone who’d be kind to his lads. ‘I didn’t realise it was you Mrs Reddish was talking about.’

‘No. We didn’t exchange names.’

He was shocked to realise that for the first time, he was taking his cousin’s suggestion seriously.

‘I’ve read the pamphlet,’ Norah prompted.

So he told her everything he knew about the scheme and about Western Australia, which was further away from Sydney, it seemed, than Rome was from London, a very isolated place where they wanted more settlers to create dairy farms.

When he ran out of facts, he took a deep breath and looked at her, waiting for a response.

‘It sounds – interesting.’

‘Mmm. Would you tell me something about yourself now, please?’

He listened as she spoke about her daughter, family and job. He smiled to think of her working as a porter during the war and a little voice inside his head said it’d be good to have a strong woman working beside him on a farm. Now he came to think of it, he must have seen her at the station when he came home on leave. But he’d never noticed her, had always been too eager to see his wife and boys, because it was his family he’d fought for, the only sane reason he could find for that vile war.

When Norah stopped speaking, he abandoned caution, because now that he’d met her, this felt possible. ‘I think we both need to make changes in our lives. And I reckon we could get on all right together.’

‘How can anyone tell that?’

He shrugged. ‘You can’t, not for sure, even if you’re madly in love. But I feel comfortable with you and Mrs Reddish speaks well of you, so . . . I’m willing to get married if you are. If you’re happy to come out to Australia, that is.’

Norah looked at him, thinking over what he’d said. Strange that he’d chosen that word.
Comfortable.
Yes, she’d felt comfortable with him on Sunday and even now, she wasn’t uncomfortable with him.

‘And I promise you, I’d try to be a good father to your Janie, and – well, I’d ask you to look after my boys, be a good mother to them. I think a lot of them.’

She studied his face again, saw only sincerity there, and yet it was such a big step to take that it was a few moments before she took a deep breath and said, ‘All right, then. I’ll do it.’

Not the most romantic of proposals, she thought afterwards, more like a business arrangement.

And what was wrong with that?

Only she’d married for love the first time and been happy, too. She wasn’t sure whether an agreement like this would be enough for a lifetime.

Well, too late now. It’d been too late for anything but drastic measures when her father died.

And there was Janie’s future to think about, as well as hers. She could put up with anything for her daughter’s sake.

She’d miss her family, though she’d not miss living in a town. Her spirits lifted just a little at that thought.

It was one thing to tell Andrew she’d marry him, another to tell her family. Norah waited till her daughter got home from school and told her first.

Janie stared at her in shock. ‘I don’t want you to marry anyone, Mum! I like it with just you and me.’ She burst into tears.

Norah cuddled her but when the tears stopped, she said firmly, ‘If I don’t marry him, our life won’t be very nice. We’ll only have a small room to share, no kitchen, no yard to play out in, nothing.’

Janie started crying again, clinging to her mother. She’d been crying on and off ever since her granddad died.

Norah sat the child up straight and said sharply, ‘Be quiet now! It’s not for you to decide something like this. I’m marrying Mr Boyd and that’s it.’ She watched Janie mop her eyes and look at her pleadingly and repeated, ‘I’m your mother and I’m doing this for you. And you
know
you didn’t want to live in Mrs Carson’s house. You didn’t like her at all when we went to see the room.’

Janie gulped. ‘Is he a nice man? Will I like him?’

‘I think he’s very nice and I like him. Do you know two boys at Sunday school called Jack and Ned Boyd?’

‘Ned’s in my class, but the boys sit at one side and the girls at the other. I don’t play with them or anything. And big boys are rough.’

‘It’s their father I’m marrying, so that’d make them your stepbrothers. Wouldn’t it be nice to have brothers?’

Janie’s bottom lip was sticking out and she was scowling. ‘No. I don’t want to share you with anyone.’ She burst out crying again. ‘We’ll not be sleeping together if you get married. You’ll be sleeping with
him
!’

‘I used to sleep with your father and it made no difference to you.’

‘I was only little then. Now I’m bigger I’ve slept with you for ages and ages. I don’t
want
to sleep on my own.’

‘Well, you’ll soon get used to it. And think how exciting it’ll be to go on a big ship.’

‘Will my aunties be coming too, and grandma?’

‘No. They’ll be staying here.’

More tears trickled down Janie’s face, but she caught her mother’s eye and didn’t start sobbing. ‘Will we have our own home again in Australia?’

‘Yes.’ Norah hugged her. ‘It’ll be all right, love. You’ll see. Now, put your coat on. We have to go and tell your aunties and grandma, then tomorrow Mr Boyd is coming round after tea to meet you.’

‘I don’t want to meet him.’

‘Don’t start that again!’

At her older sister’s house there was an uproar when Norah explained what she was going to do. Emily sent for their other sister and her husband, then all of them tried to persuade Norah to change her mind.

‘You don’t even know the man!’ her mother wailed.

‘Mrs Reddish does. She speaks well of him.’

Janie began sobbing again and crawled into her grandmother’s lap, looking accusingly at her mother.

‘How can you think of leaving us and going so far away?’ Emily wept. ‘We’d never see you again.’

In the end Norah took Janie home and left her family to talk things over, as she was sure they were dying to do. They’d already upset the child, made her sob and protest again.

‘They don’t want you to marry him, Mum,’ Janie said as they walked along the street. ‘Please don’t do it.’

‘I’ve agreed already. I don’t break my promises. And as I keep telling you, we’ll have a better life with Mr Boyd, much better than living in lodgings and scraping for every farthing. And you’ll like him when you get to know him, I’m sure you will.’

‘I won’t! I hate him.’

‘If you ever speak like that again, I’ll turn you over my knee and give you a good spanking, young woman!’

Janie stopped walking to stare at her in shock.

Norah stared right back. ‘I mean it.’

She felt dreadful, but what did an eight-year-old child know about the harsh facts of life? Especially one who’d been spoiled as Janie had. This was the only chance she had to make a better life for herself and her child. And Janie would have to learn that the world didn’t revolve around her.

Norah looked round at the smoky little town and then imagined a neat little farm with green fields and trees. They’d have cows and chickens, lots of fresh air and sunshine. Everyone said Australia was a sunny country. That would be so good for the children.

She had to hold on to that thought and not let her own fears, or those of an eight-year-old child, overwhelm the good sense of it all.

Both Norah’s brothers-in-law went round to Andrew’s house that very evening, without telling her, to size him up and question him about the Australian scheme. That embarrassed her when she found out from her sister Emily the next day.

Andrew came round to meet Janie in the evening after work, as agreed. When Norah tried to apologise for her brothers, he smiled. ‘I’m not upset by their visit. I’d feel the same if it was my sister. I hope I was able to set their minds at rest.’

He turned to Janie and solemnly held out his right hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, lass.’

Janie shoved her hands behind her back and scowled at him so darkly, Norah cleared her throat and gave her daughter a look. But Janie didn’t take his hand, just said in a toneless voice,‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Boyd.’ Which made it perfectly clear that she was anything but pleased.

After that, Janie said nothing. But she watched him. She always did watch people, that child did. And she was always nervous with strangers.

Norah was relieved that he didn’t try to push Janie into talking to him but turned back to tell her about his hopes and plans for this venture to Australia.

When he’d gone, she realised in mild surprise that she’d enjoyed his company and found what he had to say interesting – more than that, it had roused excitement in her.

She turned to Janie. ‘There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?’

But Janie ran out of the room and could be heard sobbing in the bedroom.

Norah sighed, but didn’t go after her.

This move was her decision, not that of an eight-year-old child, and the more she saw Andrew Boyd, the more she liked him. Moreover he talked like a sensible man who’d thought things out, not a fool rushing blindly into something. He’d even suggested they go out to a dairy farm whose owner he knew slightly the following weekend and try to learn something about milking and feeding cows.

It made sense to find out about the creatures who would be the basis of their livelihood.

And it would give her a chance to get to know him better, because they weren’t taking the children with them this time. They were going to learn.

When she refused to change her mind about marrying Andrew Boyd, her family grudgingly admitted that he seemed all right, but they still thought going to Australia was a stupid, risky thing and begged her not to do it. They didn’t want to lose her.

She didn’t want to lose them, either, but they couldn’t help her out of her predicament and Andrew could. And somehow, her family’s opposition, not to mention Janie’s continuing sulks, made her more determined to go through with it, though she woke a few times in the night in a cold sweat at the enormity of the step she was taking.

There was one thing that still worried her: going to bed with Andrew. He’d expect it, any man would. And she was prepared to do it because she’d quite enjoyed bed play – but she didn’t want to do it yet, not till she knew him properly.

Strangely, it was he who raised the matter. He’d acted quickly to carry on renting her mother’s house until they left for Australia and as they were checking through what was left by way of furniture, both his and hers, he said gruffly, ‘After me and the lads move in, I think you should continue to sleep with your daughter and I’ll sleep in the other room with my sons. I’ve got bedroom furniture for the three of us. Even on the ship – well, we’ll see how we go. After all, we don’t want to start our life in Australia with a baby on our hands. And by that time Janie will know me better and not resent me so much.’

Norah murmured agreement, but felt a bit disappointed. It seemed a cold way to approach a marriage. Maybe you could do that when you didn’t love your spouse, be driven by your brain not your feelings.

She wished it was different, though, wished he was in love with her, wished he’d kiss her passionately and . . . Oh, she was stupid! She’d be wishing for the moon next.

The marriage took place on the following Friday afternoon, by special licence, with just her mother and sisters in attendance, together with the three children, kept home from school for such a special occasion. His cousin Lyddie had intended to come too but she’d started the baby early.